


For You

by Higgles123



Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:55:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28392747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgles123/pseuds/Higgles123
Summary: Chuck is trying to teach you how to drive
Relationships: Chuck Grant/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	For You

“Ok, so now put the clutch in and move the gear into second. That’s it. Now, as you press on the gas a little, lift up slowly from the clutch. No, not like that. Take your foot off the clutch gently. Gently, I said. Fucking hell, Y/N.”

“Stop shouting at me,” you demanded through the gritted teeth as the car lurched forward, causing you to almost hit your head on the steering wheel. “I can’t concentrate when you’re shouting at me.”

“I’m not shouting at you,” Chuck pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath as you revved the car so loudly that it sounded like it was about to take off into space. “I’m just calmly reminding you that you need to take your foot off the clutch slowly and not rev the engine so much otherwise the car won’t like it.”

“I’m trying my best,” you snapped, your face turning red with frustration.

“Well try harder,” Chuck said, beginning to lose patience. “It’s easy. You just need to be at one with the car.”

“What?” you spat, frowning at the serene expression on your husband’s face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Chuck smirked. “I’m talking complete sense. You need to feel the car. Listen to her. Listen to what she likes and doesn’t like. Be open and willing to let her guide you and she’ll help you.”

“She’s a heap of metal,” you eyeballed him angrily. “She doesn’t have feelings.”

“Hey don’t talk about Betty like that,” Chuck gasped, patting the dashboard gently. “She didn’t mean that Betty,” he whispered.

With a growl, you switched off the engine and stormed out of the car. You stomped angrily around to the other side and yanked the passenger door open. Chuck cringed, thanking God that you hadn’t pulled the door right off its hinges. He was going to have to give Betty a good clean later with the good wax and everything to apologise for your rough treatment of her.

“Get out,” you demanded.

“Y/N,” he tilted his head and sighed.

“I mean it Chuck, get out,” you repeated. “I’m not doing this anymore. I wanna go home.”

“You can’t just quit when things aren’t going your way, Y/N,” Chuck said. “That’s not how life works. You know what your problem is? You’re a quitter.”

“Are you deliberately trying to be so mean?” you asked, swallowing the thick lump of hurt in your throat.

“Of course not,” Chuck shook his head. “I’m just saying that whenever things get hard your first reaction is to run away and give up.”

“That’s not true.”

“No?” Chuck raised an eyebrow. “What about when you got that job in the café round the corner. You literally quit on the first day because you had gotten one person’s order wrong. Or the time you joined up for that six week art class. You decided after less than five minutes it probably wasn’t for you because you didn’t realise you would have to show your drawing to everyone else at the end of the class. Or the best was when you ran your driving instructor’s foot over last year and you were adamant you were giving up on driving forever. And you bought yourself that bike with the ridiculous yellow streamers? If I hadn’t have coerced you into getting in this car today, you would never have given up the bike.”

“Well I wish you hadn’t coerced me,” you crossed your arms angrily. “Because at least unlike you and your precious fucking Betty, my bike doesn’t get mad at me. Not even when I park her outside the convenience store which I know she doesn’t like because there’s always that red bike there that intimidates her.”

“Your bike’s intimidated by a red bike?” Chuck smirked.

“What? Your car can have a name and feelings but my bike can’t be intimidated? Talk about double standards.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Chuck bit his lip to keep from laughing. And failed. Spectacularly.

With a childish stamp of your foot, you turned on your heels and took off walking. You weren’t exactly sure where you were walking to, but you didn’t care. Anywhere that was away from your husband’s annoying face.

You were aware of the car creeping slowly beside you, and you struggled with your envy at Chuck’s mastery of clutch control.

“Y/N,” he wound down the window. “Where are you going?”

“None of your business,” you answered curtly, refusing to so much as glance at him. “Now would you leave me alone before I call the cops and have you done for stalking me?”

“I don’t think a husband can stalk his own wife,” Chuck snorted.

“That’s where you’re wrong, pal,” you smirked at him. “How does it feel to be the less smart one in this relationship?”

“Says the girl who thought that only pelicans could cross on a pelican crossing.”

“In my defence, that’s a pretty easy mistake to make. Now would you please disappear so I can walk home alone? With any luck it might rain and disguise the tears that are about to fall down my face from being married to the horriblest guy on planet earth.”

Chuck looked at you. Really looked at you. He could see tears beginning to pool in your E/C eyes and he knew that you were upset with yourself. And maybe upset with him for pushing you with the whole driving thing. But the truth was that it was frustrating to see you get yourself in such a state. You had read the highway code back to front. You practiced driving in the living room, sat on the sofa with a cushion for a wheel when you thought no one was watching. You had driven the jeep that had carried him to the hospital after he was shot in Austria, and according to Roe and Speirs you had done it with such speed and ease that you could have been born doing it. Yet for some inexplicable reason you were incapable of passing your test.

It was more than confusing. It was befuddling. It was as though the second you got into the car with another person who you knew was assessing you in some way or other, you just forgot everything you knew.

“Listen, why don’t you just get back in the driver’s seat and give it another go? I promise not to say another word.”

“No,” you shook your head and crossed your arms. “I’m not doing it.”

“Y/N,” he pleaded with you.

“I said no.”

Chuck let out another sigh and stopped the car.

“Y/N,” he called out, slamming the door shut and running after you.

He stopped in front of you and put his hands on your arms, bringing you to a halt.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, taking your hands and pulling you in close. He bent down and kissed you gently on the lips. “You know I never meant to upset you, right?”

“I know,” you sighed. “But you’re right. I am a quitter. What’s wrong with me? I mean, look at you. After Austria, you could have given up. But you didn’t. Not even when it was hard. You fought and worked hard to get back to how you are now, yet I can’t even stick at a poxy fucking art group for six weeks.”

“And you know why I did that?” he grabbed your face with his hands, forcing you to look at him. The love and tenderness there was enough to almost melt you completely. “For you. Because you were right by my side through it all, and I knew that I could do anything if you were with me. Just like you can do anything you put your mind to because I’m always right here helping you through it.”

“I love you,” you smiled, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Chuck nuzzled his nose against yours. “I love you so much Mrs Grant. Even if you do suck at driving.”

“Hey,” you pinched him on the arm. “I’m gonna make you regret that.”

“Yeah,” Chuck smirked into your ear as he nibbled at your earlobe. “Why don’t we go home and you can show me?”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

_Three months later_

Chuck stepped through the front door of the house you two shared and frowned. He was greeted with silence. Something most peculiar indeed.

“Y/N?” he called out, hanging up his jacket.

Still nothing. You finished work three hours ago and usually by now you would be in the kitchen preparing dinner and singing (well, screeching) to your hearts content.

He wandered down the hallway and into the living room where he found you lying down on the couch, your favourite teddy bear clutched tightly against your chest. If Mr Ruffles was out, something was definitely amiss.

“Hey,” he smiled tentatively, kneeling down in front of you and smoothing your hair back from your forehead so he could kiss you there. “Everything ok?”

You gave a little nod but your face told a different story.

“What’s happened?” he asked.

“I had my driving test today,” you mumbled.

“You did?” Chuck’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just didn’t want anyone to know so that I didn’t feel any added pressure.”

“Oh you mean like in case you failed?”

“Thanks Chuck,” you glared at him. “Nice to know you’re so confident in my ability. That’s precisely why I didn’t fucking tell you.”

“Oh I didn’t mean it like that, baby,” he apologised taking your hand and kissing it reverently. “But I’m guessing it wasn’t good news?”

“That’s where you’re wrong actually,” you sulked, trying to ignore the fact that the slightest touch from him was enough to set you alight.

“So let me get this right,” Chuck frowned, wondering if he had completely got the wrong end of the stick. “You’re lying here with a face like a grieving widow because you actually passed your test? You understand why that makes no frigging sense to me?”

“Well it wouldn’t, would it?” you sobbed.

“I don’t think it would make sense to anyone, babe,” he commented. “You’ve achieved something you’ve been trying to achieve for like three years, and now you’re upset about it. I’m so confused.”

“Well the fact that I’ve done it is now the problem,” you muttered. “I’m gonna be expected to drive out on the streets without someone telling me what to do.”

“And that’s bad because…?” Chuck raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Because what if I don’t know what to do?” you asked, verging on the edge of hysteria. “What if I forget to stop at a red light and run someone over? Or if I forget to put the handbrake on when I park on a hill?”

“Well considering where we live is pretty flat, I don’t think you have to worry about parking on any hills,” Chuck tried to calm you down. “And as for running someone over. Well, your old driving instructor is still alive after his literal run in with you last year, and once you’ve hit one person, what’s another one gonna matter?”

You glared at him. His smart ass jokes weren’t making you feel any better about the situation. 

“I have an idea,” Chuck decided, fishing the car keys out of his pocket. “Why don’t we take Betty for a little spin and conquer your nerves?”

“I don’t know,” you grimaced.

“Come on,” Chuck grinned. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

And he did.

Anchoring the rear view mirror down so you could fix your hair, you caught a glimpse of Chuck smirking at you from the back seat as he was pulling up his trousers. You wiped at the lipstick stains around your mouth, your body still tingling as you thought about where your lips had been mere minutes before.

Perhaps driving wasn’t so bad after all.


End file.
